


Vantas Noir

by Dramono



Series: The crimson line [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930's, Alternate Universe - Homestuck Stabdads, But not Earth, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Noir, F/M, Gen, Karezi, Nor Alternia, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramono/pseuds/Dramono
Summary: Terezi Pyrope, a freshly hired legislacerator in the police department of Schwarz-port, the head of the vicious rattlesnake that is Deresite's underworld, has taken it upon herself to rid the city of the foul vermin roaming in the streets, no matter what it takes.However, she might have bitten off more than she can chew as she voluntarily takes the job of interrogating a reluctant informant, and is plunged into an insane world of crime, chance, chaos and crimson, while dark forces in the shadows are plotting schemes that soon may cost both the life of her and her informant.





	1. The legislacerator

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hey there, the author here.  
> So, I have recently fallen into the fandom of Homestuck. And to be honest, I don't want to get out of it.  
> And therefore, I've decided to write a story based on the Stabdad AU, but hopefully taking a bit more from the Noir genre than the usual stories based on the same AU.  
> And of course, I too has been shanghaied into the shipping war, so romance is definitely go-ing to have it's place in the story.  
> Anyway, I don't own any part of Homestuck, and I praise Hussie for what he has created.

* * *

Death's gamble. That's what people from outside the city of Schwarz-port liked to call it. And boy were they right, the city had one of the highest death rates in the entire region, if not the entire country.  
Not because the city was poor or anything, quite the contrary. The seventh largest city in Deresite was one of the most well fed, well sustained, and well educated cities there was. No, the high death toll was an effect of the professions a fair share of the population had. Theft, smuggling and gambling were just a few occupations these people took, and most of them knew how to do their job quite well. It wasn't for no reason that Schwartz-port was known as the second law's city, or the city of the wicked law.  
Philosophically speaking, a lot of these activities wasn’t seen as evil. Most deresic people would probably be confused by Prospitian concepts like ‘moral’ and their perception of crime. If a person stole something from you, that obviously meant they wanted it more than you wanted it. And if you indeed wanted it back, you’d just have to steal it back. Nice and simple.  
Of course, this had been long before a series of gruesome murders almost 150 years ago had left the public in mass hysteria. Before the first official serial killer only known as “The ripper” had gone through several towns killing as he saw fit.  
There had been no motives for his crimes, no point or statement to the public, no specific target of vengeance, he had just done it. The only identification was the sheer scale of his crimes, and the fact they were heading towards the capital, until they suddenly stopped. Facts which left even the monarchs trembling in fear.  
Thus, in order to protect the civilian population against such horrors, the deresic police had been founded, as an attempt to quell the nightmare before it would ever be borne again.  
The police force was divided in three units. All of them serving a critical role in the protection of the deresic public.  
The first unit, the preservanitors, was known as the defensive unit. They were tasked with securing and protecting civilians whenever a threat was presented, and to help maintain order in people's everyday life. A job which encompassed everything from making sure the traffic was properly maintained, to stop a fire or a gunfight. They were usually a kind bunch who wanted to protect people from harm, and usually lived nice, simple, and comfortable lives.  
The second unit, the detentionvisors, were known as the preventing unit. They were tasked with trying to prevent dangerous situations from ever occurring. A job which boiled down to two distinct parts, maintenance of the deresic prisons, and analysing criminals so as to get a better understanding of their habits and development.  
They were for the most part a secretive and odd bunch of fellows, finding interests where few else would.  
And last but not least, the final unit known as the legislacerators or the offensive unit. They were the ones in charge of making sure criminals who had broken the law were brought to justice. They were the Prostian ideas of investigators, prosecutors and taskforces, all merged into a single unit. Once a legislacerator had been tasked with a crime, they would search every creak and corner for evidence, discover and build a strong case against the guilty, hunt down and arrest the criminal, and present the whole thing in court.  
Of all the people working in the deresic police force, they were the most glorified. Praised by the public, feared by the lower class of criminals, and according to the papers, in some sort of metaphorical kissmesis-ship with the higher class of criminals.  
They were the defenders of the weak, the preservers of society, the justice system of Deresite, and they had been the aspirations of Terezi Pyrope all her life.  
Terezi herself wasn't sure when she began dreaming about joining the deresic police. But if she had to take a guess, she would say that say was because of one evening when she was a little girl, and her dad, a detentionvisor in the notorious prison Grey Dime, had caught her in his office, reading through one of the many files about inmates in said prison. Instead of scolding her however, he had just taken her and the book into the living room, and began telling her stories about all the faces in the book, most of whom he had met himself during some of his time as prison guard.  
He told her about Mellow Hair-pinner, a burglar who had broken into the national museum, stolen a bunch of jewels, lead a car chase through most of the city all night and crashed into a warehouse before he was turned in.  
He told her about Cassadon Deblound, who had broken into the police headquarters and kidnapped the late chief without getting noticed. He had then tied him upside down to the top of the mast on a ship and demanded a sum of 500.000 boondollars in ransom, only to throw the chief into the water and turn himself in, once the legislacerators actually arrived. Needless to say, the chief had not been happy when he found out his captor had done it just for the heck of it, and had resigned only a month later.  
Terezi had swallowed every story wholeheartedly, and as the years went by, she still held onto her dream and began studying law. She might not have been the best student, but she was enthusiastic, and she passed her exams with a pretty impressive score before she went straight to the police so as to take her rightful place among the legislacerators.  
She had long since decided she wanted to join the legislacerators rather than any other branch of the police, partially because she always had a nose for finding odd details, but also because she wanted adventures like neither of the two other departments could give her. She didn't want to be handing out blankets to civilians and maintain safety perimeters, nor did she want to be rehabilitating criminals and just listen to their stories. She wanted to be out in the field, hot in the heels of dangerous criminals and bring them to justice herself.  
There had been a short period of time where she hadn't been given any respect do to her disability, but that had changed completely after the Sagharsh case, which had turned her into the department's hero. The great Terezi Pyro who had let her team of investigators to the stolen Sagharsh statuette, and single-handedly had taken down the notorious and dangerous thief, Crossvvord.  
She had become renowned, honoured and admired among the rest of her peers. The chief herself had given her a medal, she was-  
  “Oi, Pyrope?” a sharp voice barked, “Are ye here lass?”  
Terezi woke from her daydream with a startled yelp and almost dropped the pen she had been doodling in her notebook with on the floor.  
She looked up, took a short whiff and was greeted with the smell of tobacco crossed with sharp aftershave she had expected. How long had he been talking to her?  
She quickly closed her notebook and aimed her full attention at her captain. “Sorry sir, you was saying?”  
The captain of Terezi's squad Hatton Anurry, or as Terezi liked to call him 'captain Hat on and Hurry', shook his head in mild amusement and repeated.  
  “Me and a couple of the lads were talking about going down on the pub down on Overseal-road to celebrate the end of the election, and we were wondering whether or not ye wanted to tag along.”  
Terezi turned her head back towards the paper on her desk, an arrest order one of her colleagues had assigned her covering a minor charge against a young female troll who had been caught trying to leave council member Terripoff's mansion through a window carrying most of his silverware in her bag, and suppressed a sigh.  
  ”Just go ahead guys.” she said, “I'll be there as soon as I've finished this.”  
The captain nodded in understanding. “Of course, ye just get there whenever it suits ye.” He and the rest of the investigators got up and headed outside.  
  “We'll save you a cherry dough-ring!” One of them shouted just as the door closed behind them, leaving Terezi alone in the empty room.  
She looked at the door for a couple of seconds, before she let out another sigh and returned to her work.  
Who was she trying to kid anyway? No matter how much daydreaming she did, it wouldn't change the fact that she not only was the newbie in the department, but also blind and therefore, in her superiors’ eyes, meant to be kept away from harm's reach. It didn't matter that she repeatedly had proven her ability to see with her other senses, the only work she was ever given was filling out paperwork whenever another legislacerator arrested someone, and it was slowly killing her on the inside. She was metaphorically drowning in paperwork.  
With one last stroke of her pen she finished the arrest order, got out of her chair, skilfully manoeuvred around the desks of her colleagues, and was on her way towards the main body of the department.

Department 7, located on 45-Edgestreet, was by far the biggest of all the departments in Schwartz-port, and consisted of not only a legislacerator-office but also a preservanitor office, training grounds for field-duty, a large medical facility, morgue, the largest communication central in the city, and the office of none other than the chief of police herself.  
The chief of police was tasked with all the most important of the dull paperwork Terezi loathed. It was her job to assign tasks to the various officers, work out the budget for the entire corps, and all paperwork had to get her approval before being delivered.  
Terezi had planned on just leaving the paper on her desk and get going, but as she got closer she heard the sound of someone arguing inside the office, and one them, judging by the voice, was the chief of police.  
  “No, no, no!” the other voice, withered and hoarse, cried, “I've had enough of this horrorwork. I'm out!"  
  “Come on Jannos,” the chief said, “I know it might seem hopeless right now, but everything will turn out alright. You'll manage.”  
  “Not with that guy.” Jannos retorted, “I've tried everything. I played nice cop with him for four damn hours straight, and the only thing I got out of it was an expanded vocabulary of profanities. And when I tried to play bad cop and rough him up a bit, _he stabbed me!_ See, right there in the shoulder.”  
  “How the hell did he even get hold of a knife anyway?”  
  “Apparently, he hid it in one of his boots and- Hang on a minute, that's not the point!”  
  “So what _is_ the point?”  
  “The point is that I quit the case. I'm out. Too old for this. Good luck finding someone who'll take it.”  
The door was flung open with a loud slam, and legislacerator Jannos Nowell stormed of muttering curses under his breath.  
The chief let out a sight. “Just come in Miss Pyrope.”  
Terezi said nothing, but closed the door behind her as she stepped into the office.  
The chief of police Silvinia Drougshail, could best be described with a single word, regal. She was tall, held herself with a grace worthy of aristocracy, her shoulder long greying hair was neatly trimmed and well maintained, and like all other sea-dwellers her ears extended into the characteristical fins suitable for listening to sounds underwater and her fingers were equipped with a web she could retract in order to work functionally above water.  
That, combined with the stern gaze of her violet, catlike eyes, the firm lines of age and her triangular fin-shaped like horns, gave the impression of a woman not meant to be disobeyed. A true leader.  
And yet there she was. Clutching her head in her hands in a stressed manner, as if she was tired beyond what Terezi could have imagined.  
  “Problems, ma'am?” Terezi asked.  
The chief shook her head, “No, no, nothing you should concern yourself with. I'm just a bit annoyed with one of our cases that's all.”  
Terezi took another step forward and placed the arrest order on the chief's desk.  
  “Which case?” She asked.  
The chief huffed, took the order and a long elegant pen from her desk, and began writing the necessary signatures.  
  “Six days ago, a warehouse down at the port broke out in fire. And with that a gigantic layer of weapons owned by the Marksman-union was destroyed.” she elaborated, her eyes fixed on the paper as if it was responsible for all her troubles, “We believe the responsible party is no other than the midnight crew. Sure you've heard of that lot.”  
Terezi nodded. Who hadn't heard about that group. One of the four major players in Schwartz-port, along with the late Felt, Kreuger-corp and their long-time rivals the Splints. Each of them had their own distinctive style, and if something in Schwartz-port blew up, the odds of the midnight crew being involved weren't worth betting against.  
  “Well, as part of the new mayor's campaign for election, he promised to make the streets safe to walk again, at any time of the day.” the chief went on, “Which unfortunately means a whole lot of overwork for us.”  
Finishing the formula with a swift stroke of her pen, she got out of her chair, and began pacing up and down the room in excitement.  
  “With the evidence we've collected over the decades, along with the incident at the harbour, we finally got enough evidence to make a solid case against the leader of the midnight crew, Spades Slick. This should be as easy as strolling down west harbour-lane during a midweek sale.”  
She smashed her hand into her desk, toppling over a glass on her table. “Except we can't find that crimson-blooded spawn of a horror-terror!” she roared. Her breathing was getting erratic and catlike pupils widen into large saucers, as she turned back to the large map of the city hanging on the wall.  
  “We've looked everywhere! All their known hangouts, all their casinos, _literally everywhere_! It's as if he has just vanished from the surface of Skiran. And when we finally get hold of someone who might know where he is, _the kid won't talk_!”  
Terezi straightened her back, slightly uncomfortable with hearing her chief spilling what sounded alarmingly like caliginous feelings towards a mobster everywhere. She knew it wasn’t her place to interrupt, but if what she was hearing was true and she played her cards right, she might just have found her ticket away from the paperwork, at least for a while.  
  “If I may be so bold ma'am.” she said, “Maybe I can be of assistance? I am a fully trained legislacerator after all and-”  
  “Miss Pyrope we have been over this before.” The chief said with a groan as she sat down again, “Do to your… disability, I do not think it would be responsible of me to put you into fieldwork. Who knows what-”  
  “I know…” Terezi groaned, “But this is an interrogation, not field work, and we don't have time to find another legislacerator. According to paragraph 17 article b, an arrest without any charges can only be maintained for 24 hours. There's already gone at least 4 hours, and you can't be sure when the next free legislacerator reports back. And if someone _does_ check in, they'll have an uncertain amount of time to be assigned the case, get briefed, and get something out of a reluctant witness. If I take the case now, I can read through the briefing at home, and start the interrogation as soon as I get to work tomorrow.” At this point, she was practically on her knees begging.  
  "Please, please, please, please, pleeease, I can do it. I know I can."  
The chief chuckled. "Well, can't deny I like your enthusiasm." She said, as she scooped up all the papers on her desk and placed them in a neat pile next to her computer, "And even though I _could_ easily just call one of the other legislacerators on their home-number, you're right. It _is_ just an interrogation, I think you should be capable of taking care of this."  
Terezi's heart skipped a beat as she got up from the floor.  
  “So that means?"  
The chief smiled. "It certainly does. The case is yours."  
Terezi cried out in joy. She had a case, she had a case! She couldn't _wait_ to tell the guys.  
  “But!” The chief said, “You're only assigned the interrogation. As soon as you get anything out of him, someone else will take over.”  
Terezi tried to look at her with her most serious face, but failed to keep back a smile revealing far too many razor-sharp teeth.  
  “Understood, ma'am.”  
  “Good. Now go home and get some rest, you got a big day ahead of you.”  
Terezi saluted, got out of the office, sprinted down the hallway so fast her nose barely had time to register whenever she was close to colliding with something, got her things packed, grabbed her cane and umbrella, and was off to tell her friends the great news.

One of the good things the lack of moral high ground had caused, was the general respect the police force and the criminals had towards each other. And because of that, they had somehow developed a certain kind of rules for fair sport. One of which was that homes, bars, and places of relaxation were off limits for both parties. An agreement which suited both the police and criminals just fine.  
Terezi and her friends had always preferred the pub known as the Roasted Bean, a special place close to the police station they had all been introduced to by their captain when they joined the squad, so it was no surprise to her when she arrived at the place to find them at their usual table.  
  “Hey guys.” She called, easily getting across the room in long strides.  
  “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.” The lean, skinny troll with ponytail and green eyes named Ethon said, “finished polishing the chief’s boots early?”  
  “Knock it off Eth,” Ethon’s moirail, a good-natured, yellow-blooded troll called Jerz, said.  
  “Tez’s just trying to do her job right. Like you ought to do yourself.”  
Ethon shrugged, “Nah… If I did that you’d be out of a job.”  
The friends laughed, before the captain stood up.  
  “Right, I was ‘bout to go give me and the lads’ orders. What ‘bout ye lass?”  
Terezi looked at him with a smile. “I’ll take a cup of latté with a cherry dough-ring at the side. Actually, make that two. Got something to celebrate today.”  
  “What? Apart from finally getting done with the election?” Jerz asked.  
  “Not because _that_ isn’t a reason to celebrate.” Ethon muttered, “I swear, if I have to clear up _one_ more assassination attempt this month I’m gonna…”  
Ignoring Ethon, the captain was about to nod at Terezi, paused, then gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder instead, before he went over to get their orders.  
Terezi sat down, and took a long whiff of the atmosphere surrounding her. This was how life was supposed to be lived. A nice, warm pub to hang out in, a bunch of nice smells in her nostrils, a good and thrilling case to work with, and a bunch of good friends to share it all with.  
They were an odd lot of friends, and she had to admit, the only reason most of them had ever met in the first place was because of the captain. Not that she was complaining or anything.  
They were six in total, all currently mashed together around the table in their usual seats.  
To her left sat Ethon. He and Jerz were a legislacerator team, building upon both Jerz’s keen eye for details and Ethon’s quick thinking during their investigations, gunfights and pub quizzes.  
Next to Ethon sat Pete. A human legislacerator who specialized in forensic assistance rather than actual investigation. He was one of the oldest in the group, only second to the captain and Jeff, and he and the captain made a habit of telling their younger friends thrilling tales about all the cases they had been on.  
Then there was Twizz who worked in the communication central. He was by far the calmest guy in the group, as one would expect from someone who dealt with scared civilians every day. He also auspiced for a pair of his other friends, although the rest of the gang had never met them. He sat next to Jerz on the opposite side of the table, along with Dave. Dave was the only one in the group who worked in the preservanitor department, and spend most of his time when he wasn’t on ‘partroll duty’ with his partner writing songs. He claimed his songs were super popular among the right people, but had so far never allowed any of them to see his work.  
And finally, there was Jeff. Jeff was, by all definitions of the word, peculiar. He was the oldest in the group, worked in the training grounds as a supervisor, and had just sort of always been there for most of them. Usually he was a kind and quiet person, but sometimes he would just freeze in the middle of an action, almost as if he was reliving a bad memory. However, whenever Terezi or the others asked about it, they would just get told that Jeff had suffered greatly a long time ago.  
This had led to some wild theories among the friends. Jerz thought that Jeff had been part of a legislacerator special-squad, but had resigned after some traumatic accident. Pete believed that he had been a detentionvisor, and had been caught during the riot in the prison Bleakyard seven years ago, causing him much mental distress. Terezi held her cents on the idea that Jeff had suffered some tragic accident in his private life, which had worn heavily on his psyche. While both Dave and Ethon proudly swore, that Jeff had been part of the very first Legilacerator team searching for the Ripper, although that hopefully wasn’t a serious guess.  
Still, Jeff was a nice friend, and Terezi wouldn’t bother him with something that might be hurting.  
  “So Tez,” Twizz asked, “what is it you’re celebrating? Did old long-grip decide to paint our office red?”  
  “I’ll tell you all when Hatton gets back.” Terezi replied grinning. “It’s a surprise. He he he he he.”  
The guys looked suspiciously at her, but chose to let it slide and returned to their previous discussion.  
  “So what about you Dave?” Pete asked, “Your thoughts on the new mayor.”  
Dave shrugged. “I like him.” He said, “Guy seems honest about his promises, and he just generally seems like a nice guy. He got my vote.”  
  “He’s too naive.” Twizz said, “I’m telling you, the guy will be wrapped around the little finger of one of the houses within a month. Only question is, which one?”  
  “Don’t judge the book by its cover Twizz.” Terezi warned, “I’ve heard he’s a war veteran. He might be harder to break than you think.”  
  “Well said Tez.” Pete said with approval, “and you, Jeff?”  
Jeff sighed, “Honestly. I think no matter which candidate won the election, we’d still end up getting overwork. At least this guy sounds like he’ll give us credit when credit is due.”  
  “Augh, lighten up a bit will ya.” Ethon said, “you sound like you're attending your own funeral.”  
Jeff looked at him with a slight grin. “I would think I’d be a bit quieter to my own funeral.”  
Ethon was about to talk back, but his attention was caught by the sight of the captain coming back with the pint he ordered.  
  “Here ya go everyone.” Hatton said as he passed around the orders, “A pint of elder-willow to Ethon, a sprinkling-cider to Pete, a coffee with a slice of black derse licorice cake to Jerz, apple juice to Dave, camilla tea to Jeff, latté and a cherry dough-ring to Terezi, old scottie’s favourite to Twizz, and a black-drop to me.”  
Terezi eagerly took her order and sniffed lovingly to the ring formed pastries on the plate. Much to the amusement of her friends.  
  “You know, Jerz?” Ethon said, “You remember that batch of rubies that went missing? Did we ever look for them at Tez's place?”  
Jerz chuckled. “You’d be wasting your time Eth. If Tez had stolen those rubies they’d be swallowed by now.”  
  “No kidding.” Dave added, “Tez is like a black hole for anything unfortunate enough to bear any of the scarlet colours. She’ll devour them like a dragon would do to whatever fool who dares disturbing its slumber.”  
  “Careful Strider,” Terezi warned grinningly, “or you might get bitten yourself. I know for a fact that all humans have delicious candy-blood running through their veins.”  
Dave shrugged. “Whatever you say, maniac.”  
Jerz shook his head and took a sip of his coffee before he turned to Terezi. “So Tez,” he asked, “what _is it_ you’re celebrating?”  
Terezi smiled, eager to share the news. “Okay, listen. So a little while after you guys left the office, I was heading towards the chief's office when I heard shouting. Turns out to be Nowell, who’s just dropped a case because of a difficult witness or something like that. I talk with the chief and-”  
  “Wait, Tez.” Ethon said, “Are you saying that…”  
  “Thats right. I got myself my very first interrogation. Tomorrow, I’ll be in the interrogation-cells trying to wrestle the whereabouts of Spades Slick out of some poor sap.”  
For a few seconds, everyone around the table was silent. Then, Ethon’s face split into a wide grin.  
  “Why would you look at that.” He said, patting Terezi on the back, “Our little Tez is growing up and everything,”  
  “He’s right.” Jerz nodded, “This will be your debut into the lines of experienced legislacerators. Welcome to the club.”  
  “Nice done, Tez.” Dave said.  
  “I’m so proud.” Twizz said with a smile, while wiping an imaginary tear off his chin.  
Hatton however, had gone very quiet.  
  “So, the chief has set her aim on Spades Slick has she.” he muttered, “Then we better prepare ourselves for a storm.”  
Seeing the confused looks his younger subordinates were giving him, he went on.  
  “Most of ye rarely comes in the preservanitor-office, and I’m pretty sure ye don’t hang out with the older lot Dave, but I got a couple of friends there. And they’d be able to tell you some pretty chilling stories about the last time the houses went to war. And what kind of people it created.”  
A silent gloom spread among the friends, as if a horror-terror had decided to pay them extra attention. The sun had set, leaving them with only the artificial light of the pub and the streetlight outside to expose the otherwise dark corners, and the heavy clouds which had been hanging over the city the whole day had begun raining during their discussion.  
Hatton probably felt the heavy atmosphere, and decided to change the topic.  
  “But that’s not a story for today. Today, we celebrate.” He stood up, “I would like a toast. To Terezi.”  
  “To Terezi!” the friends cheered.  
Terezi looked at them graciously. A feeling of comfort and joy bubbling inside her.  
  “You ought to tell your old man, ye know.” Hatton said, “if someone deserves to know this sort of stuff, its him.”  
  “I know.” Terezi said. “I already told him, and we’ve decided to meet up here after work tomorrow.  
  “Well then.” Hatton said. “Not much more to tell ya but to enjoy the evening, so do that.”  
Terezi smiled. “Yes, sir.”


	2. The war hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Terezi has a bad encounter, and a brawl ensues on the station.

* * *

When Terezi woke up the next morning, she found herself lying face first in the couch of her apartment still fully dressed, clutching one of her many scalemate plushies, and suffering from a terrible headache. The last part was a bit weird she thought, as she hadn’t done anything _that_ out of the usual yesterday.  
After the group’s little celebration-party had been running for roughly one and a half hour, Terezi had said goodbye to the rest of the gang and headed homeward eager to start reading through the case-file. She had decided to simply run all the way home as her apartment wasn’t that far away, which meant it would be ridiculous and a waste to stand around and wait for a taxi.  
However, she had barely gotten halfway down Tumberdale-street, before someone had grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the alley. He had then placed a knife to her throat, and told her to hand over her wallet and fetch-modus or he’d kill her.  
The poor fella hadn’t stood a chance. Terezi had used his focus and close proximity to her, to distract him from her cane. She had then calmly turned the cane in her fingers and placed the head of it hovering just above the inside of the guy’s left knee, before she with the combination of a pull with the cane and a push knocked him over.  
The struggle had been short and mostly one sided. And before the robber barely had time to realise what was going on, he was on the ground and Terezi had clubbed him over the head with her cane, knocking him out cold. She had then dragged him out of the alley, cuffed him to a nearby streetlight and left a note to when the district-assigned preservanitor would pass by. The struggle had however, completely ruined her umbrella, so she had left it behind at a dustbin and hurried along.  
She had gotten inside her apartment a couple of minutes later, dripping from head to toe with cold, cold water. She had taken off her jacket and thrown it over a radiator, before she had kicked off her shoes and headed inside the 32 square meters she called her home.  
She had then thrown the case file on the coffee table, opened a window to let the foul air out of the room, and gone into the nutrition-block to get something hot to drink before she came back and began reading through the casefile and take notes.  
She couldn’t exactly remember what had happened afterwards, but her best guess was that she had passed  from exhaustion while reading through the file, and simply hadn’t gotten up again afterwards.  
She got up groggily, coughed and staggered out into the nutrition-block for something to eat before she would put on a new set of cloths and head back to the office for the interrogation.  
Her nutrition-block was, like most of her apartment, a gigantic mess. The dustbin was filled with old packaging from various kinds of fast food, most of her cutlery and plates had taken up permanent residence in the sink, and some places in the refrigerator had been declared contaminated area by Terezi long ago.  
Terezi knew her home wasn’t living up to most sanitary standards, but she was spending so little time in the apartment it hardly really mattered to her. She had better bigger concerns than her apartment collecting a bit of dust, and those people who said the quality of a person's life could be determined by the state of their living quarters could go pack themselves a nice bundle of-  
' _CRASH!’_  
Terezi nearly jumped through the roof as the sudden noise of china breaking cut through the low sound of cars and people passing by down on the streets below. She looked down and could make out the vague outline of a broken cup on the floor, but she could hardly sense it.  
The sudden realisation hit her, and she turned around to look at the rest of the nutrition-block. She could hardly make out any of the furniture, the scenery outside the window was little more than colourful dots, the details next to none existent.  
She hadn’t realised any of this in the sleepy state of mind she had been in, as she had been navigating purely by memory, but now it was clear to her. Something was impairing her sense of smell. She was _blind._  
Staggering slowly out of the nutrition-block and into her social-block, she made her way towards the makeshift office she had made of her respite-block. Her phone was in there, if she could just get hold of it she might be able to get help from someone, _anyone_ .  
She let out a yelp of surprise as she tripped over a couple of scalemates on the floor, sending her tumbling into the large pile she had made of said plushies. Okay, walking was definitely out of the question.  
She began wriggling and crawling forward, almost like a wriggler, and finally made her way out of the large pile. However, she kept all four limbs on the ground. Probably the best way not to fall over again, she thought mere seconds before she crawled head first into a nearby chair.    
After several minutes of crawling, bumping into stuff and cursing, she finally got into hold of the phone and began dialling up the number to Dave Strider’s residence.  
  “Hello and yo.” Came the chill voice of Dave from the other side of the line, “You’ve contacted the Strider home service for those who’ve simply gotten enough, phone counselling and pizzeria. How may I be of service?”  
  “Dave?” Terezi said, “I seriously need your help right now. Can you get to my apartment? Quickly!”  
It was a testimony to how big of a friend Dave was, how much he trusted his friends and the urgency of Terezi’s voice that he didn’t ask any questions but simply said, “Sure thing, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. See ya.” Before he hung up again.  
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on her front door and a “Yo Tez, you there? It’s Dave.”  
Terezi made a final tug at the sweater she had pulled out of her wardrobe, made her way toward the door while trying not to fall over something, and managed to fumbling get the door open.  
  “Heya Dave.” she said with a smile. “Sorry to drag you over here like this. I was-“  
  “Tez,” he said with concern evident in his voice as he took hold of both her shoulders. “are you alright?”  
Terezi's wavered for just a second as she felt her breath catch in her throat.  
  “Of course,” she lied through another sharp-teethed grin. Something that became all the harder by trying to supress a cough at the same time. “Why shouldn't I?”  
Dave’s head lowered, and even she could hardly smell anything, she was pretty sure he was trying to give her one of the captain’s ‘Officer, be honest’ looks.  
  “Terezi…” he said, “…you look worse than one of my bro’s awful comics, you're staring to my left while talking to me and you're wearing that sweater vest saying ‘crush your enemies’ Ethon gave you last twelfth perigee.”  
Terezi silently cursed. So that was what the candyfloss smelling blur on the sweater had been.  
  “So I ask once again, Tez. What’s wrong.”  
Terezi said nothing for almost a minute, then sighed and sank to the floor in despair.  
 “I can’t see.” she said with a voice far too small for her usual self.  
Dave looked at her puzzled.  
  “No offence Tez…” he said warily, “…but what have you been drinking? Isn’t the ‘can’t see my own nose’ thing like… your thing?”  
She shook her head. “Not like this. Something is making my nose all funny. I can hardly tell the difference between you and the wall over there.”  
Dave gave a barely noticeable of understanding and stepped slowly forward. Carefully so as not to frightened her, he placed hand on her forehead.  
  “You’re not burning.” he muttered, “Any other problems?”  
  “My throat’s sore, and I feel like something has gotten stuck inside it.”  
Dave nodded as she went down the various symptoms describing headaches, fatigue, and an inability to smell.  
  “Well…” he said. “…sounds to me like you got yourself a case of the colds.”  
  “The colds?” Terezi asked confused, “What’s that?”  
Dave smacked himself over the head. “Right…” he muttered, “…troll diseases, different. Got to remember that one.”  
He sighed. “I’m no Rose, so I’m not going to run you through a doctorate. It’s pretty common and trivial disease among humans, and it’s not going to kill you. Bet you got it from someone at the station, and the down pour last night probably didn’t help. Most humans would hardly bother with it, but in your case I would recommend you stay in bed a couple of days. And call a doctor if it gets worse. I’m not entirely sure what it can do to trolls, it could be the next plague to your lot.”  
Terezi laughed. “Thanks for the prescription, doctor Strider. Now, what do I actually do?”  
Dave said nothing.  
  “Wait…” Terezi said with a frown, “You was being ironic, right. Right?”  
  “Tez,” Dave said with mock disappointment, “I thought I had taught you better than this. I seriously think you need take the week off. At least till you’re up and running again.”  
Terezi frantically got up and shook her head despite how much it made it hurt. “Dave, no. I can’t take the day off. Have you forgotten, I got my first real interrogation today? I can’t be sick.”  
Dave shook his head. “Nuh-uh miss Pyrope. You’re in _no_ condition to do fieldwork right now. You get to bed while I call Jerz. I’m sure either he or Ethon can take over if I-”  
  “No!” Terezi practically yelled. “This is _my_ case! I’ve been intrusted with it, and I am _not_ going to hand it over just because of a disease you yourself has called _trivial_ !”  
Dave stepped backwards and raised his arms I surrender.  
  “Whoa…” he said, “What on Skiran was that all about?”  
Terezi groaned. He didn’t understand. And really, how could she expect him to? He wasn’t the one who had been treated like a wriggler because of something she had no control over. Never getting any responsibility because of something completely ridiculous. This was her chance to prove them wrong, to show her capabilities, and if she stepped down because of something as stupid as a runny nose, it would all but confirm their prejudges. She could not, would not , back down.  
  “Look, Dave. I just really need to do this. You help to the station, I get it over with, and then I’ll take the week of. Promise.”  
Dave sighed. “It’s against my better judgement Tez, but okay. Now, let’s get you some decent cloths to wear.”  
Terezi smiled as he went into her apartment. It was nice have to have friends you could rely on, even if you had to push them a little.  
  “Holy Jokester, woman!” Dave shouted from inside, “No wonder you’re getting sick! This place is colder than a freezer on arctic!”  
  “Shut it!”

When Terezi and Dave finally arrived at department 7, after half an hour of stumbling over object, Dave digging through her wardrobe and a desperate descend to the ground floor, they were greeted by the sound of mayhem. People were shouting at each other, grappling each other, and a couple of technical supporters were desperately trying to hold down an angry looking cerulean-blooded legislacerator with horns like antlers, sadly to no avail.  
  “What’s going on?” Terezi asked.  
Dave shrugged. “Apparently someone thought it was a good idea to play the annual rough-ball tournament inside the building, and three months too early.”  
Terezi dodged to the side as a chair came soaring through the air before it crashed into a nearby wall. A preservanitor fell over after being knocked senseless by a legislacerator.  
  “This is getting out of hand.” Terezi said, “Where’s the chief?”  
Her question was answered at once, as the sharp voice of the troll in question nailed everyone to the spot.  
  “What in the name of the mother-grub do you pan-less concrete kissers think you’re doing!” she roared.  
The brawl immediately ceased as every last officer parted into two groups. They looked at their chief with faces a mixture of relief, concern, and unaltered fear.  
The chief said nothing, her eyes hard as steel and ablaze with fury. The fins on her ears opened threateningly and her teeth bared in a supressed snarl. The challenge in air was clear and strong; who here was stupid enough to try and defy her?  
Terezi shivered. It was easy to forget that the chief had grown up in Prospine when she was like this. Standing there on top of the staircase, she could easily be mistaken for one of the warrior empresses from ancient times, commanding and deadly. Ready to strike fear and terror into anyone who might oppose her. Terezi was glad those were only stories.  
  “Well then,” the chief said, her voice cold as and sharp as the silver ornaments covering the tip of her horns, “I leave for a few seconds, and the next thing I know you’re all fighting like a bunch of rapid barkbeasts. So I want to know; what the name of the laughing lunatic is going on, and who did this?”  
Nobody spoke, too frightened by the chief’s outburst to take responsibility.  
Terezi snorted. Whatever idiot who had dared to start a fistfight in here ought to brave enough to take responsibility. However, when someone finally spoke up, it came to Terezi as a surprise that the voice didn’t come from someone in the midst of the two groups, but rather from someone behind her.  
  “Um… I think, that would be… my fault, ma’am.” A gentle voice said, and a civilian troll with a pair of gigantic horns and brown eyes stood up. He had broad shoulders, an athletic build, short hair, and the way he held himself and spoke told of a disciplinal training, possibly military. However, he was also leaning heavily on a walking stick, perhaps he had been in some sort of accident.  
The chief looked down at him sternly. “And you are?”  
  “T-Tavros Nitram, ma’am.” he said, “One of my friends were arrested yesterday, and I’m uh… I’m waiting for his r-release. To take him home. Ma’am.” he added, almost as an afterthought.  
The chief nodded. “Very well then, mr. Nitram. How exactly is this your fault?”  
Mr. Nitram scratched his chin, clearly not comfortable with being in centrum of everyone’s attention. “W-well, I had been here for um… roughly half an hour when I decide to get some coffee.” he pointed towards the automat over in the corner, “And then, when I was heading back towards my seat, this man over there came up to me, looked me in the eyes and told me to hand over my cup.”  
The cerulean legislacerator growled warningly. But a stern glance from the chief was enough to silence him.  
  “Please, carry on mr. Nitram.”  
  “Uh, well I didn’t really want to give it to him, so I said no. Then he called me a lot of things I didn’t felt too comfortable with. Then someone told him to knock it off, and a bunch of other people began shouting. Everything began kind of escalating until someone punched that first guy, and then hell broke loose.”  
  “Who was it?”  
  “Huh?”  
  “Who delivered the punch?”  
  “W-well… he-”  
  “It was me, ma’am.” a voice which Terezi recognised as Ethon’s yelled from the left group, “Because I don’t like idiots calling other people filthy dirt-bloods.”  
The room broke into chaos anew as the cerulean legislacerator with a roar lunged forward at Ethon, who dodged and delivered a swift kick to the stomach of the legislacerator.  
The legislacerator however, barely noticed but swirled around, caught Ethon by the throat and before anyone could react delivered a solid punch to Ethon’s face.  
There was a sickening ‘ _crack_ ’ as Ethon’s nose broke and he fell to the floor unconscious.  
  “Enough!” the chief roared. In mere seconds, she had gotten hold the cerulean and given him a slap across the face with force enough to send him tumbling onto the floor.  
  “Get out…” she hissed, “…before I do something I _won’t_ regret.”  
The cerulean said nothing, but hastily got to his feet and ran past Terezi and Dave, and out of the front door while clutching an obviously broken jar.  
The chief paid no notice of the disappearing troll, as she turned to the rest of the crowd. The ferocious blaze in her eyes rekindled with promises of agony, her hands clenched into tight fits, her claws drawing thick pulses of tyrian blood.  
  “Someone get this fool to the infirmary.” She said, nodding down towards the unconscious Ethon at her feet,  
  “And listen up, for you’ll all do damn well to remember this. I don’t care one _second_ what your thoughts on the hemo-spectrum are, but when you’re here you listen to _me_ ! and I will have _no_ fighting om my watch! If I see any of you idiots fighting, you’ll deal with me personally, and don’t you dare to think you’ll survive _that._ So I swear as true as my name is Silvinia Droughshail. Understood?!”  
  “Yes, ma’am!” the officers chorused before they all ran off in different directions, two of them dragging Ethon off towards the infirmary.  
Seconds later Hatton arrived shaking his head.  
   “Damned be the blessed ones. Haven’t seen her this mad since they dragged off old Scratch.” He paused, “Actually, scratch that. She was way scarier back then.”  
He stepped over to mr. Nitram and took hold of his shoulder.  
   “Better you abscond now, lad. Less someone gets any nasty ideas.”  
Mr. Nitram sighed and Terezi heard him mutter, “He won’t be happy with this… that’s for sure.” before he picked up a hat dropped on the floor, gave Hatton a final apology for the ruckus he had caused, and was out of the door.  
The captain looked after the retreating form with a sight.  
  “Poor lad.” he muttered, “He’s just lucky it happened here. It ain’t easy for people like him.”  
  “Who?” Dave asked, “Those who are cripples?”  
  “Low-bloods?” Terezi added.  
  “Nah.” The captain said as he scratched his chin, “I mean those who’re afraid. Those who appears submissive and ready to take orders. They don’t live well in this world.”  
He stood like that for a few seconds, probably contemplating some deeper meaning to the world, before he turned back facing his two subordinates with a renewed smile.  
  “Anyway. Tez, ya better follow me. I’ll get ya down to the right interrogation-block, and you can have a go on the lad down there, right?”    
  “Thanks, sir.” Terezi said. She took herself to the head. She was getting dizzy again. The colourful mess of scents in her head was getting more blurry by the second, and she staggered ever so slightly forward as it felt as if she was losing her balance.  
  “You alright lass?” Hatton asked with concern.  
  “Yes!” Terezi snapped as she whipped out her cane for support, and with determined strides made her way towards the interrogation-block. “Now, come on!”  
The captain looked curiously at Dave, who merely shrugged and gave him a look of _‘don’t ask me’_ from behind his shades before he headed off to his own office.

Terezi had gotten quite a head start, so when the captain caught up to her she was already looking through the one-way mirror into the opposing interrogation-block as well as she could.  
The interrogation-blocks were by no means comfortable. All of them were equipped with nothing but the bare necessities. A bench for sleeping, a bathroom and a pair of chairs placed opposite of each other by a lone table in the centre of the room. It was also common practice to make sure the rooms were always brightly lid so as to prevent people from sleeping properly.  
The boy however, appeared to be unfazed by the block. He was simply sitting by the table, leaning over a game of solitaire he was losing.  
  “So,” Hatton said as he asserted the boy sitting on the other side of the room with a critical eye, “what’ve we got on this one?”  
  “Not much.” Terezi said, thinking back to what she had read in the casefile the previous evening, “Caught trying to buy ammunition with a large quantity of marked boon-dollars we knew to be in the possession of the Midnight crew. Claims he was handed the money by an unknown person and say he has no knowledge of where the money came from. Has so far been uncooperative and has assaulted several officers in claimed self-defence. We’ve tried confiscating the knife, but we can’t find it.”  
Hatton scrunched his upper lip in a thoughtful manner, his broom like moustache wrinkling.  
  “Well,” he said as he pulled out his precious pipe, “I can tell ya one thing. The lad’s a liar that’s for sure.”  
Terezi looked at him quizzically. “How so, sir?”  
  “It’s the way he’s sitting.” Hatton explained while lighting the pipe, “His shoulders raised in that tense manner, the scowl on his face, his fingers tapping like that. He’s impatient, not nervous. He’s hiding something and he knows we aint getting it out of him.” He shrugged with a smile. “Can’t really explain it any better. It’s those kind of instincts ya get with time, not learning. Once ya get enough experience you’ll be able to see these patterns too. Or well, not see in your case. Smell, maybe?”  
Terezi said nothing. She felt as if her head was weighing her down while something was pressing against her skull from the inside out.  
Hatton looked worriedly at her.  
  “Look lass, If ya not feelin up for it I’m sure that-”  
_'SLAM!’_ Terezi shut the door with a loud bang which made the boy sitting at the table jump up and drop the cards everywhere and made with long strides her way to the table.  
  “Well then, mr. Noir.” she said through gritted teeth as she slammed the case-file onto the table, “I believe you and I have a lot to discuss.”


	3. The midnight thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Terezi has another bad encounter, another brawl ensues, and Terezi becomes moody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone.  
> So fun story, most of this chapter has been finished since October, but a combination of school, other activities, different ideas, and a frustrating writers block has prevented me from finishing those last couple of sentences that should tie the whole thing together.  
> So, I've decided to change my working method a bit, and will now post the future chapters in snippets, rather than wait until the entire chapter is complete. That way I'll be able to make updates more regularly, and thereby keep myself more motivated, while also making the task of writing these chapters look easier in my own eyes.  
> So anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, as much work went into it.

* * *

The man, clearly unimpressed by her enthusiastic proclamation, said nothing. He merely got up and began picking up the cards that had fallen off the table when he jumped, and were now spread across the floor, some of them barely visible in the sharp shadows frown by the table and the sole source of light in the room hanging above it.  
Terezi inhaled deeply, trying to get an impression of her adversary. He was, by her best estimation, around her own age, and by no means intimidating to look at. Up close, he actually looked rather frail, hunched over, sulking, with slim shoulders, hollow cheeks, a sharp chin and cheekbones, heavy dark rings beneath his peppermint teal blue eyes, and candy corn orange horns curving along the top of his head, almost hidden in his messy, liquorice black hair in a way that made them look nubbier than they actually were.  
His clothes weren’t helping his appearance either. The liquorice black suit, tie, and vest he was wearing  above a sugar white shirt would in most circumstances had given him the look of a gentle-troll and respectable person, but after the abuse and uncomfortable sleeping conditions it had suffered from over the last several hours, it had become so messy and filthy he more looked like a drunkard Terezi once saw being thrown out from a pub during a late night patrol.  
He also seemed to be incredibly uncomfortable, and even despite of Terezi’s impaired sense of smell, she could easily smell how sweaty he was. Sweaty, but also something else. A strange smell, one she had definitely smelled before, but simply couldn’t place.  
  “Mr. Noir, I-”  
  “Don’t call me that.”  
Terezi paused. A part of her was taken a bit back by his sudden response and the venom in his voice, something she hadn’t expected to happen until at least ten additional minutes of taunting and goading, while another part of her was downright intrigued by his response. Why the aggression, why the bitterness?  
  “Excuse me?”  
  “Don’t call me that.” He repeated from beneath the table, where he was still picking up the scattered cards, his harsh and slightly hoarse voice muffled by the sturdy planks, “There’s only one mr. Noir in this city. And that’s sure as hell not me.”  
Terezi raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Usually people liked being addressed by their surname, as it showed signs of respect and authority. Unless of course, there was something else. Like a trauma, or a grudge. Issues big enough to make him resent his own family name.  
This left her with an option as to whether or not she should investigate the subject further. On one hand, it could prove to be relevant for the investigation, and be a leverage to use against him, but on the other hand, it could also antagonise him, and leave him even less likely to cooperate during further questioning. In the end, she decided that it would probably be smarter to cease that line of questioning, at least for now, and instead try to lead the conversation over to more important matters.  
  “Well then.” She said with a shrug, as she too got down under the table. “In that case I need to address you by something else. How about-”  
  “How about you just call me by my bloddy name? The two idiots before used it, so I know you have it stuffed into that casefile you’re clutching like your fist-hatched. Then again, you look like one who could lose track of your own shadow while having your head turned away from a lamp. So just to remind you, it’s Karkat.”  
Terezi smirked. He had told the truth, albeit in a really rude manner. Karkat Noir, son of one Jack Noir, was apparently going to play the honesty game with her. Answer truthfully to her easy questions and simply dance around the hard ones. A common trick among criminals, and one most legislacerator trainees got a lot of practice with.  
  “Well, mr. Karkat, Am I mistaken when saying that you are here because you bought...” she stretched out the last syllable as she flipped through the file, “seventeen litres of gasoline, two crates of various canned foods, a spade, and a couple of electronic components usually found in computers, using money marked by the police?” She absentmindedly placed her hand on the floor for support, and it landed on something smooth and flat. She discreetly picked it up and began toying with it. It was one of Karkat’s playing cards. One of the black ones, as far as her limited sense of smell could tell her.  
Karkat scoffed, rolling his teal eyes. “No, I’m here because I was verbally assaulting the queen herself.”  
Terezi frowned. Well, two could play that game.  
  “Really?!” she asked, her expression fluently turning into one of excitement, while she leaned forward to come face to face with Karkat. Far too close for comfort. “What did you tell her?”  
Karkat clearly hadn’t expected that reaction, and for a second, he could do nothing but stare at her with his mouth ajar. Then he jerked backwards with a startled yelp, dropping the cards he had been holding onto the floor once more.  
  “What the ever-loving what?!” He cried.  
  “The queen.” Terezi elaborated. “You said you are here because you verbally assaulted the queen. What did you tell her?”  
Karkat stared at her, then he groaned. “Oh, isn’t this just my gut-wrenching luck. Of all the bloody legisnappers in this entire wretched grub-chewer of a town, and of course I get the one with a sense of humour to rival a cluster of Juggalos high on sopor.”  
  “Why, thank you for the compliment my dear,” Terezi replied with a grin, and a sniff to keep her nose from running, “but I must insist on keeping things professional between us right now.”  
  “Oh, really?” Karkat said with mock astonishment, as he picked up the last card on the floor, got up, dusted off his suit, and sat onto his chair again, “Professional? Colour me surprised, I could have sworn you had no idea such a word even exists, let alone what it means.”  
  “Oh, now you’re just _trying_ to insult me.” Terezi with the mocking air of someone being courted, as she too swung herself onto her chair.  
  “But of course I am.” Karkat replied, neither missing beat nor snark, “For alas, thou pathetic excuse of trollkind, while thy inability to act and think for thyself shall no doubt awaken the diamond of many a troll, we fear that little hate shall be willingly bestowed upon thee. So in its place, we have chosen to dye our pale offer in the pits of tar, so that thou can experience the true joy and bliss of a loather’s touch.”  
Terezi snorted with laughter.  
  “Wow,” she said, “I knew you were a criminal, but I had no idea you were a nerd as well.”  
  “Shut up!” Karkat said.  
  “Oh please. You just quoted Troll Mirikath Serextan’s third comedy, A house of no troll, don’t come and say you're not a nerd.”  
  “Well you're no better. It takes a nerd to know that quote. Hello pot, I’m the kettle.”  
  “Right… So, about those money.”  
  “What money? I haven’t said nothing about money.”

They kept going like that for what felt like hours. Throwing and deflecting snarky insults at each other, asking and answering each other's questions while struggling over every last ounce of information. As time passed, Terezi got hold of facts like; yes, Karkat did have minor ties to the Midnight crew but only as an occasional middleman, that he had gotten the marked boonbuks as part of a project, and that he really had no idea that the money was stolen from the police, or as he had put it, do you really think I would be stupid enough to try and buy something with money I knew would get me in here?  
He was still reluctant to answer her major questions, like what his ties to the crew was and what he was doing with the money, and was skilfully avoiding them with constant side-tracking and well placed lies, but that just made the game that much more intriguing. Heck, Terezi had been having so much fun, she had hardly felt the ever-constant pressure of the cold on her thinkpan, nor thought about the looks the captain had been giving her just before she began. She felt as if she was having the time if her life. Trying her wits against someone who wouldn’t just give her a fair fight, someone who wouldn’t back down, was something she rarely ever got a chance to do. The other cadets back on the academy had been too weirded out by her, and had quickly bend over to her will just to get out, and the instructors had simply lorded their rank over her, whenever she got too nosey. Karkat could do no such thing, and he knew it. So, he kept playing with her, and he was playing to win, not pulling any punches and using every bit of leverage he could. He wasn't bad at it either, he clearly had experience dealing verbally with people, and could answer all of her questions as he saw fit. Not only that, but he was also taking her seriously, actually perceiving her as a threat, rather than a sad little girl with an irredeemable handicap.  
After an especially tiring round of verbal tug of war, in regard to whether or not Karkat had been alone in his endeavour, Terezi leaned back onto her chair, and tried to make her most serious expression to conceal her thrill.  
But now, time was running short, she needed to get hold of Spades whereabouts before Karkat was allowed to leave. She had to end it quickly.  
  “Well, I think I got most of what I came for.” she said cheerfully, as she closed the file case with a snap. “I just have one final question. Where is Spades Slick?”  
At once, the mood of the room changed. Karkat’s posture became tense and he crossed his arms across his chest in a defensive gesture.  
  “I can’t tell you.” It was said with a finality that hadn’t been in his voice before. No evasion, no snarky comment, no sense of game and challenge, nothing but flat out reluctance to cooperate. Like instead of a difficult obstacle course, he had placed a gigantic wall impossible to climb.  
Terezi frowned. “Karkat, I don’t think you’re quite following. In this casefile, we have enough evidence to ensure a conviction. If you help us in our investigation, we _will_ be able to put Spades Slick behind bars in Grey Dime for ages, and in that case, you’ll have _nothing_ to worry about.”  
  “Nothing to worry about?” Karkat asked. The sarcasm was back, but this time partially mixed with what could only be described as utter disbelief and genuine surprise. “Are you trying to make a joke, or are you really that out of tune with reality? If you bloodsucking legisnappers get your claws in Spades, the Midnight crew will be torn to pieces, and do you have any _idea_ what that’ll entail?”  
He was on his feet now, leaning heavily against the table with both hands as he towered over her, grinding his teeth almost in a growl.  
  “Anarchy, that’s what’ll happen. It’ll be the Felt-wars all over again. Crockercorp and the Splints jumping at the throats of each other in a ferocious attempt to gain as much territory as possible. Actually, scratch that, it’ll be worse. The Midnight territory is at least twice the size the Felt’s was, and holds ten times the value, so the fights are going to even more fierce. Is that what you want, a city at war?”  
At this point, Terezi was standing as well.  
  “Of course I don’t want it.” She said sharply, “But it’ll be worth it in the long run. The instability will make the criminals more likely to perform mistakes, which we will be able to use as a means to further undermine their power. In the end, this may very well be the key to eradicating organized crime in this city.”  
  “And why do you want that?” Karkat shot back, “Neither the Midnight crew, the Splints, nor Crockercorp has ever been a threat to the public, so why take such a risk? Can’t you see you’re fighting an unnecessary battle?”  
Terezi felt her blood pusher accelerate, as her cheeks grew hot with anger, and she was pretty sure that if her nose hadn’t been impaired by that harlequin forsaken cold, she’d be able to smell the same teal tint across her opponent’s face.  
  “This,” She said, her face barely centimetres from Karkat’s, “is _precisely_ the sort of attitude that allows people like the Ripper to emerge. Three people, trolls and humans alike, _died_ in that fire last week. A fire started by the Midnight crew killed _civilians_. That makes them a high priority threat to the crown, and Spades Slick a vicious, unreliable madman prone to _stabbing_ anything in his line of sight.”  
  “It wasn’t them!” Karkat roared.  
  “How do you know?” Terezi asked, her voice just as loud as Karkat’s. “How can you tell what the Midnight Crew has and hasn’t done?”  
Karkat said nothing for a few seconds, then he looked away and muttered, “I guess that’s something you’ll never deduce.” His face set in an expression Terezi couldn’t read. Everything was blurry. And then, something in her snapped.  
It was a decision made in the spur of the moment. Something she couldn’t possible rationalise, even to herself. But in that moment, she got sick and tired of her impaired senses, sick and tired of not getting any solid facts about the expression the man sitting across the table, and an unquenchable desire to get a clearer input surged through her thinkpan. And with those thoughts in mind, she leaned further across the table, closing the distance between her and Karkat, and drew her tongue across his cheek in a long, throughout manner.  
Karkat gave a startled yelp, drew back, and clasped a hand onto his slobbered cheek, a look of confusion and shock on his face.  
For a few seconds, none of them spoke. Then they both regained their voices, and exclaimed their confusion at the same time.  
  “Did you just _lick_ me?” Karkat asked, stunned and revolted.  
  “What was _that_?” Terezi asked, her face scrunching up in distaste as she spat in a vain attempt to get the nasty taste off her tongue.  
Karkat stepped backwards, but in his eagerness to get away from Terezi, he tripped over his chair, sending him toppling to the ground. He swore loudly, and began tracing his hands across the floor, almost as if he was searching for something.  
Terezi wasn’t slow to follow after. She leapt over the table, landed on her feet, and approached the fallen troll, regaining his full attention once again.  
  “Get away from me your crazy crypt-goblin!” Karkat yelled as he kicked the chair towards Terezi, causing her to stumble slightly as her foot connected with the piece of furniture. He scrambled to his feet again, and backed into the wall behind him.  
  “Stop acting like such a whiney grub.” Terezi said with a huff as she cornered him. “I’m just trying to get a better view.”  
She leaned forward, stretching out her tongue to get another sample of the weird taste, but Karkat pushed her backwards, flattening both her nose and tongue against his gloved palm.  
  “Stop it!” He shouted again. “I don’t have to take this! This is sexual  harassment, that's what it is! You can’t do this to me! I got bloody rights! I want my defence!”  
Terezi tried to remove Karkat’s hand, but he intercepted it with an almost desperate grab with his other hand and threw it out of reach with enough force to knock off their balance. Terezi heard air rushing past her ears, as they both slammed onto the floor with a loud _‘bang!’_ , a startled yelp of pain, and a large tangled mess of limbs.  
  “Get off of me your unstable psycho!” Karkat yelled. But Terezi wasn’t listening. She was laughing wholeheartedly.  
  “This is just like tangle buddies.” she chortled, “Squiddles, Karkat, ever seen that show?”  
  “First of all, no. Why would I watch a stupid entertainment-hall show for little squishy human wrigglers? And secondly, _why the sweet Topreean grub-sauce are you still on top of me_!”  
He lunged forward, and Terezi only got a second of warning before she was forced to deflect something which gave off a sharp metallic ‘ _clang!’_ when it collided with her cane.  
She jumped to her feet, just in time to deflect another wild attack from Karkat’s knife. She stepped backwards, felt something crunch underneath her shoe, and with startled horror realised that she had lost her glasses in the commotion.  
Karkat swore loudly, got onto his feet and charged forward. Terezi sidestepped him, and as his wild swing with the blade passed her, she lashed out with her cane, aiming for his back.  
Karkat was fast however. He twisted around almost on the spot, got hold of her cane-arm with a grip nearly as quick as a slitherbeast, closed in on her and pushed her backwards with enough force to throw her against the table, which toppled over onto the floor with a crash.  
Terezi responded in kind by knocking Karkat’s feet away from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more, before she threw herself at him with a ferocious war cry.  
The struggle was vicious. They lunged at each other like wild animals, weapons abandoned and forgotten as they punched and pulled and bit and tried to strangle one another. They were so caught up in their struggle, that they never heard the door slam open, nor the heavy footsteps of two preservanitors storming into the room alongside captain Anurry.  
  “Get ‘em separated _now_!” Anurry barked. And the two preservanitors rushed forward and grabbed a combatant each. The one holding Terezi took a nasty blow to the head, while the one restraining Karkat cried out in pain when his captive stomped him over the foot.  
  “Terezi?” Anurry shouted, “Terezi, snap out of it lass!”  
Terezi blinked, and though she was still furious, she managed to turn her attention to the Captain.  
It was his stern glare that made her realise what she had done. She had broken facade, gotten emotionally involved, betrayed the trust put in her by the chief, and messed up in so many other ways she probably had set a new record.  
She fell lax in the arms of her restrainer, who quickly let go and began tending to his bruised ear, as well as his bruised ego.  
  “Sorry… sir.” She muttered awkwardly, actively not looking the captain in the eyes.  
  “It’s not me ye should be apologizing’ to.” He said. “The chief’s waitin’ for ya report. Said she wants it conveyed verbally, and personally.”  
Terezi felt her heart sink. She was dead. Either that, or something even worse. The chief would never give her another chance, she would be flayed _alive_ , she would be doomed to an eternity of paperwork, if she wasn’t _fired_. And it was all _his_ _fault._  
For a brief, insane moment, she was at the verge of attacking the bastard all over again. But with a ludicrous show of willpower, she managed to turn around and half march, half sprint, out of the room.  
She was halfway down the corridor, when she heard the sharp voice of Karkat ringing out from the room.  
  “Go back to Prospine, blue-eyes! You don’t belong here!”

The most uncomfortable thing about the whole ordeal, wasn’t that Terezi knew she had messed up epically, the realization that she had allowed the criminal to slip away between her fingers, nor the long, uncomfortable silence. No, it was the stare she could feel the chief giving her. A stare that prickled across her skin and said everything from the woman Terezi had a feeling wanted to flay her.  
  “I’m not angry, if that’s what you’re thinking, miss Pyrope.” The chief said with a sigh. “As a matter of fact, I expected something like this to happen.”  
Her words felt like someone stabbing a rusty knife into Terezi’s intestines. She hadn’t been trusted, just humoured. Like a whiny little wriggler who had been given a toy to keep it quiet.  
  “In my defence ma'am,”  she said with as much bravery  and defiance as she could muster, while desperately trying to keep her head clear, “last night I got a terrible cold which is impairing my sense of smell, if I had been at full health I-”  
The loud sound of a pen snapping silenced her abruptly.  
  “Junior legislacerator Terezi Carma Pyrope.” the chief said, her voice oozing a fiery exasperation that burned like glue-fire, hot, and impossible to either get off or put out, “I hoped beyond hope, that this little experience would get you to open up those scorched eyes of yours and _look_ at yourself, but I guess that was too _angling_ much to wish for, so let me spell it out for you. This has nothing, absolutely _nothing,_ to do with your eyes. You’re not in the field for the same reason as Staminav, Joylski, Greenhill, and every other junior legislacerator in the whole damn _department_! You’re young, inexperienced, and, as this incident proved, too spontaneous and irrational. We can’t send people like _that_ into the field.”  
She took a deep breath, and with a barely restrained jerk grabbed the papers in front of her. “Now, if there is nothing more to say on the subject, I do need to get on with my work. And I believe _you,_ ” she looked back at Terezi, the slightest tint of concern in her eyes, “need some time to rejuvenate yourself. You can take the next two weeks off, and no objections.”  
Terezi tried to object anyway, but the withering glare and low growl the chief send her was a clear enough dismissal, even for a blind person, and Terezi chose to make a hasty strategic withdrawal.  
She made a beeline for her office, turned to a sprint when she heard a furiously familiar and harsh voice chewing out a receptionist about some sort of missing hat, slammed the door behind her, and rushed over to her desk.  
She could feel the eyes of her colleagues resting on her as she emptied her drawers for her most important stuff, their judging glances as she began sorting out the papers regarding things that couldn’t wait from those that could, but she payed it no attention. She had more important things to deal with, than their judgemental idiocy and moronic expectations. Sure, the chief could prevent her from coming into the office, but she couldn’t prevent her from _working_.  
  “S’up.” said a familiar nonchalant voice behind her.  
She turned around, and was met with a blurry haze of peach below corn-yellow, and two large spots of black in the middle of the whole thing.  
The sight of a familiar face seemed to have a dampening effect on her simmering anger, though not erasing it completely, as she sat, almost collapsed, down into her chair with a sigh, and said “Hey Dave.”  
Dave sat down on her desk opposite her, and picked something out his pocket.  
  “The cap told me to give you these.” he said, “Said he found them on the floor. Like, oh wait a second, my feetsenses are tingling, what’s this on the floor?” He stretched out his hand, and placed a playing card and Terezi’s glasses on the table.  
  “He also said you were incredible lucky. Apparently, you and that mr. Cyan trashed the room so thoroughly, it’s a small miracle these things weren’t turned to dust.  
Terezi looked at Dave with a confused look, before she picked up the glasses and slowly ran her finger along the rim of them. Sure enough, there were no sharp, jagged lines where the glass had been crushed, not even cracks. But if it hadn’t been her glasses that broke, what was it?  
Well, it was most of all a question for another day anyhow. She’d had enough as it already was. She just wanted to go home and forget everything about this horrific day. Maybe she could stay in her recuperacoon for the rest of the week. That felt like an appropriate reaction to this.  
  “Anything wrong Tez?” Dave asked.  
  “No, I guess not.” Terezi muttered, “You heard what happened.” It wasn’t a question. There was no way Dave could have gotten hold of her glasses without hearing the whole thing told by the preservanitors.  
  “Heck yeah. The entire department has heard it by now.” Dave replied, “The gossiping train has been going supersonic through all the floors, fuelled by my sick rhymes on fire. Burning the paperwork and setting off ceiling-showers all over the building, forcing the lowlife working-ants beneath it to cease their trivial objectives and awe at the epiclimatic tale of the mighty dragonlacerator Pyrope’s operatical battle against the shrewd and lame mr. Bleu. How she struck him down with the power of her cane, when he refused to ally himself with the forces of light, pureness, and everything-” But he never got any further, because at that moment Terezi slammed her head onto her desk, covered it with her arms, and let out a loud groan of despair.  
  “Though to be honest,” he hastily added in an attempt to fix his verbal blunder, “he had it coming a mile away. I heard some of the guys working on him before talking. Sounded like they wanted to _flay_ him, let alone punch him.”  
  “But they didn’t _do_ it.” Terezi replied, her voice sounding hollow and feeble, “ _They_ had self-restraint enough to quit before they lost it. They were _better._ ”  
Dave, painfully aware where the conversation was heading, coughed awkwardly, before he picked up the playing card and handed it to Terezi.  
  “So, um…” he said in a vain nonchalant manner, “What’cha make of this?”  
Terezi snorted. “I’d love to tell you,” She said sarcastically, “if I could actually _see_ it.”  
  “Oh… right… sorry.” Dave muttered sheepishly, “Well... it’s a playing card, the Ace of Spades, I guess. Why’s it even named that? Did some ancient wizened wise man up on a mountain look at this card and say, ‘yup, that’s definitely a shovel. I should use this piece of paper to dig out my garden’. I mean-”  
  “Not helping, Dave.” Terezi groaned, the anger inside her starting to simmer again. It may have come out a _bit_ harsher than she had intended, but she _really_ didn’t want to listen on too much rambling at that moment. She had been having the worst day of work ever, she was suffering from a disease that made her practically blind, and it was all culminating in a killer headache that felt like she had been playing the part of a slapstick villain.  
  “Umm… anyway,” Dave went on, “the spade is really detailed. Covered in all these… these…” he sighed, “Damn it Tez. I don’t know how to tell you all this. This is not how the Strider rolls. He needs to spread his wings and soar through the analogies free to do as he pleases. Like the sick crow somersaulting through the air at his own leisure. He can’t be bound nor bought. His artistic text integrity has to be his own, less he dies.”  
He handed back the card with an apologetic shrug.  
  “Maybe you could get your dad to look it over. He’d probably identify four codes and a limerick in these twisted patterns. Seriously, who dedicates that much time to a hobby like-” but before he could finish his sentence, Terezi had caught hold of his wrist with enough force to leave his hand numb.  
Her face was frozen in an expression of horror, the eyes so wide-open part of the yellow, unburned sclera was visible, and if not for her grey pigment, Dave was sure she would have been as pale as a cholerbear.  
  “Dad…” she whispered hoarsely. “Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot, how could I forget? I told him to meet up with me at the pub, I-I told him all about it! _About everything_!”  
She let go of Dave as she got up and began pacing back and forth. Fidgeting and panicking.  
  “He-he can’t see me like this.” She said. Her hands were shaking. The fear dripping off her as the tensed coils of her façade began to snap. “Not like this. _Never like this!_ But if I don’t show up, he’ll just find me. He knows all my places, I can’t hide.”  
She turned to Dave with frantic expression.  
Dave jumped off the desk and tried to get away, but Terezi grabbed him by his vest and pulled him back, forcing him to stay close, their noses barely an inch from each other.  
  “But you…” she said, “he doesn’t know where you go. You can hide me. Can’t you, Dave?”  
  “Of-of course.” Dave spluttered, wishing he could be somewhere else, anywhere, rather than in the clutches of the desperate troll. But then again, she was his friend. A friend who had been dragged through one damn awful day, was on the verge of a mental breakdown, and in desperate need of help. He couldn’t just leave her. She was a danger both to everyone around her and herself at the moment. Plus, there was no way he’d get out of the iron grip she had his vest in.  
With slow and steady hands, Dave managed to pry her hands open, get hold of the suitcase on the table and shove the rest of her stuff into it, and began leading her down the room, out of the building.  
Terezi said nothing when he began tucking in her arm. It was almost as if all the air and defiance had been sucked out of her, and without the potential threat of her father hanging over her head, the desperate reserves of panic-driven adrenaline had been closed off once more. All she was left with was the ability to do as she was instructed, and trust Dave to help her.  
Dave knew a lot of people where this sort of behaviour was common, he had even been there a couple of times himself, but to see the same mute and small spirit on Terezi was something entirely different. To see the Woman who always held her head high and went at every challenge with a bone-chilling cackle so out of it was almost frightening, in that hollow and looming sense of the word.  
  “Bloody comedy, he really got to you, didn’t he?”  
At first, Terezi only nodded in response. But then it was like a dam inside her broke, and the words began spilling out of her.  
  “I don’t know what happened.” she muttered hoarsely, “Everything was going perfectly. It was just a question. Just one question, and then he flew off a handle and he began shouting and I began shouting and I got so angry and-”  
  “Oh, hang on Tez…” Dave said in a deliberately disturbed voice. “Is this about you trolls’ messed up love slash hate life? Cause I gotta say, I was definitely not taught about that in human school. Is it true it involves a bucket and-”  
  “Dave, no! Stop!” Terezi exclaimed, the look of defeat exchanged for one of utmost horror. She could almost feel the awkward gazes of the other people in the room.  
Dave merely shrugged, but said nothing else as he lead her out to the parking lot and towards his beloved car. His plan had worked. Mission distract severely depressed troll had been a success, pick a prize from third shelf.  
Terezi, however, was thinking.  
If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t the best one when it came to romance. She had never been interested when the topic came up back in school, her parents had been a pair of matesprits living by a ‘we don’t talk about other quadrants’ philosophy, and the only time she’d actually tried one was a moirailligeance with a blue-blooded senior at university, which eventually had been broken off, badly. But she was pretty sure the general consensus was that you were supposed to hate a kismesis. It wasn’t supposed to be fun listening to their witty comebacks, especially not when they were aimed against you, nor to enjoy their presence and vicinity in the ‘not want to scar your face’ way.  
No, Karkat Noir wasn’t kismesis material, he was a question. A question to be dissected and distilled into thoughts that she could churn and connect within her mind in the ever-moving search for patterns and understanding she had honed her frontal-pan into.  
Besides, she thought as she got into the passenger-seat of Dave’s car, no one who tasted as bad as he did could possibly bring anything good with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry if I messed up any of the characterizations, but it isn’t easy to catch the spirit of these characters without making them look like shallow, fake versions of themselves.  
> I especially have difficulties with Dave because, well, it’s bloody god-smack Dave Strider! His speech pattern is so foreign to me, it might as well be an alien language.  
> Anyway, if you liked what you read, please leave kudos, and if you have any comments or ideas, please write them in the comments.  
> See you all next year.


	4. Villain enter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dave tries to help, a plot is discovered, and a murder isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.
> 
> So, as you may or may not know, it takes a completly ridculous amount of time for me to actually update this story.  
> The problem is that while I have a clear idea where the story is going, and can write snippets and parts just fine, it can take ages for me to string them together, and then there is school and other projects and well, let's just say there's a reason for the extensive periods between each update.  
> So as a method to get myself more motivated, as well as to make more regular updates, I've decided to post these chapters in chunks, which will then be placed on top of each other. So if you see that the story has been updated, but no new chapters has been added, it's most likely because there has been added content to the previous chapter.  
> And don't worry, I'll try to keep each update as rounded out as possible, so it'll hopefully feel like a whole chapter even if it isn't completed.

Sometimes, Terezi couldn’t help but worry about her friends. They were nice people and everything, but sometimes she caught glimpses of something else. Usually small things, like a tear in one of their suits, a vicious bruise hidden by makeup, the handle of a revolver hidden away beneath their jacket, or even a whiff of what could easily be mistaken for contraband liquor in their breath, rather than mouthwash.  
But then there were other times, when their stories from the field got a certain dark tone, or when their gazes became cold and vicious, almost dangerous. Terezi had once overheard a weird conversation between Dave and Ethon. Apparently, someone had sliced open one of the wheels to Dave’s car, and had left a note in the windshield.  
Ethon had asked Dave whether or not he was going to tell the boss, to which Dave had replied with something about not having her clean up his mess. At that point Terezi had heard his footsteps heading towards the door, and was forced to hurry along, less she was to be discovered eavesdropping.  
The incident was in her ears weird enough in and of itself, but the way Dave spoke of it, not just angry but somehow also tired and defeated, had sent chills down her spine. Like the chilling rain storms that would hit Schwarz-port every autumn. Something everlasting, all encompassing, and heavy.   
It was the same tone Dave spoke with now, as pulled his car to a stop.  
  “Now, Tez. I want you to promise me you’ll let me do the talking, you’ll try not to start any trouble, and you’re going to not drink anything offered to you by anyone but me.”  
It was a weird, almost concerning request from the otherwise carefree Strider, but Terezi couldn’t muster the effort to care at the moment.  
  “Great, good. Now, I’m gonna borrow this.” He carefully unpinned the badge on Terezi’s waistcoat, but before he could go any further, her hand shot forward and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip hard enough for her sharp nail to almost draw forth sweet, red blood. Her crimson spectacles aimed directly at him, as if she could actually see him, and her teeth bared in a silent snarl.  
They couldn’t take it from her. It belonged to her. They couldn’t take it. She had earned it herself. They couldn’t take that too.  
Dave didn’t flinch. He had been in situations like this far too many times to make a rookie mistake like that.  
  “Tez,” he said, deliberately trying to sound calm so as to not give away the fact that she was in the position to break two out of three bones in in his arm. Rule number one, always appear to be in control. If you’re in control, you become reliable, trustworthy, and most importantly, a big waste to blow bullets through. “a lot of the fellas in there ain’t too fond of legies. They trust me, but if they see your badge things is going to go messy pretty darn quickly. Just let go, I’ll hold onto it for you, and you’ll get it back as soon as we leave.”  
For how long they sat like this, staring each other down as best as possible with a blind person, only the damned may know, but eventually, Terezi resigned herself to his reasoning and let go. With a sigh of relief, Dave pocketed the badge, and without saying another word to each other they stepped out of the car, and rounded the corner leading out into the dimming streets of Schwat-port’s autumn afternoon.

The place Dave knew, this ‘sanctuary’, turned out to be a minor bar on the corner of one of eastern Schwarz-port's less than stellar streets, called the singing snake, if one were to trust the blinking neon sign hanging over the front door. The red brick-walls were plastered with posters about the various candidates from the election, some of them shredded by people supporting the opposition, some of them used as canvasses for doodles and social commentary, and some of them so worn by the harsh weather it was hard to tell whether they were supporting the previous mayor Toreslaw, or the new Wayne Vagamond. In front of the door stood a large goonish bouncer. Bald as the grey moon with two broken horns, a nasty scar running up the left side of his chin, and a waistcoat with buttons that looked like they were on the verge of popping like the bullets of a peashooter.  
  “Wella well, well, look who came crawlin’ back to tha gutter after all.” The bouncer said as he eyed the two friends heading towards him. “What’s tha matter Strider, price-money runnin’ low already?” His eyes fell on Terezi, and his smile grew and twisted into something greasy and sordid. “And who’s this young beauty? Weren’t ya going out with that Lisney doll, Strider?”  
  “Knock it off you twat,” Dave replied without giving him a second glance. “she’s a friend of mine, and you better watch your hands. She bites.”  
The bouncer frowned, but merely stepped aside to let the two friends pass.  
  “Lisney?” Terezi asked.  
  “Just a girl I’ve been hanging with.” Dave replied with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, it was only a fling, broke up weeks ago.”  
  “I’m sorry.” Terezi replied. Not as much out of sympathy as common courtesy.  
  “Don’t be, it was my decision. There’s only so many times a fella can handle getting nothing but a ‘uh-huh honey’ or a giggle in a conversation. No matter how gorgeous her hair is.”  
They fell into uncomfortable silence again, as Terezi drew in a breath to get hold of her surroundings, and nearly blanched in response.  
She had been many places throughout her life, the city, the capital, the countryside, and had experienced the various ways people interacted with one another in all of them. But this place wasn’t a bar like she knew them, well lit, the crowd cheerful and laughing, with a smiling bartender and the band adding a humorous twist to their jazz, tuneing the music to the cheers of their audience. This place felt almost depressing, the guests were sitting silently for themselves, leaning closely over their glasses, and the band sounded downright mournful. Over in a corner sat three trolls looming over their cards in a tense game of poker, and at the bar a balding human had fallen asleep across the bar.  
Terezi grimassed in disgust. She felt nauseous, and for a brief moment she was glad her nose wasn’t working properly. But then again, she wouldn’t be here if her nose was working.  
  “Don’t let the fur coat fool you.” Dave muttered to he when her saw her expression. “The crowd may not be nice, but the drinks are okay, and the art is to die for.”  
  “Art?” Terezi asked, dryly.  
  “I’ll explain in a minute.” Dave replied as he let her over to the bar.  
The barkeeper, a grizzled old man with a thick mane of greying hair, a gold earring in his left lobe and skin that looked like it had been lying out in a desert for several days, looked up as they stepped closer and gave Dave a broad smile, revealing several missing teeth and a single gold tooth.  
  “Strider!” He shouted boomingly as he placed the cloth he had been cleaning the bar table with on a shelf. “How are you doing boy?”  
  “Oh, not bad you know.” Dave replied. “You still feeding that ox out there, Sherford?”  
The barkeeper, Sherford, merely chuckled, as Dave and Terezi took the barstools next to the sleeping human.  
  “So,” Sherford said as he pulled out two glasses from beneath the desk, “I take it you’ll have the usual Strider, but what can I offer you, young lady?”  
He pulled out what Terezi could only guess was a menu card and offered to her, but before she could take it, Dave snatched it out of Sherfords’s hand and stuffed it into his pocket.  
  “We’ll both be having faygo.” He said. “Fresh faygo.”  
Sherford’s smile wavered for the briefest of seconds, and his gaze flickered to Terezi, before it returned full force as he nodded. He removed the glasses he had placed in front of them, and replaced with two larger glasses. He then turned around and began shuffling through several different bottles on the shelfs behind the bar.  
   “All right, what flavour?”  
Dave gave a bemused shrug and said. “I dunno. You got apple?”  
Sherford picked out a half empty bottle from the shelf and read the label.  
   “You’re in luck Strider.” He said with a smile. “I just happen to have a bottle left.” He filled Dave’s glass halfway to the brim, before he turned to Terezi. “What about you young lady?”  
Terezi thought for a few seconds before she said, “I’ll take a glass of hot red cherry fuzzypop please.”  
  “... cherry?”  
Terezi sighed. “Sure, cherry.” She mumbled.  
Sherford gave Dave a bewildered look, before he ducked under the bar desk and began rummaging through bottles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I know this is a rather short chapter at the time being, but I promise I'll try to update it as regularly as possible.  
> As always, your ideas and feedback is apreciated, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this new working regime.


End file.
